


Laundry Day

by majesticartax



Series: Deadly [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, I don't have a beta don't hate me, Intercrural Sex, Laundromat AU, M/M, One Shot, Rimming, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-16 02:44:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20169214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticartax/pseuds/majesticartax
Summary: Hinata learns a lesson about waiting too long to do his laundry, and Kageyama is right there to teach it to him.Or: Hinata wears leggings and Kageyama is a creep.*PART OF THE DEADLY SERIES. PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE*





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> HEY YOU -- if you haven't read my fic 'Deadly', I suggest you do before reading this little ditty, or else you'll be somewhat confused or -- worse yet, SPOILED if you decide you want to read it in the future. [So you can read it here :D](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371298?view_full_work=true)
> 
> But if you're just here for some smut and you don't give a shit about the plot, then please, continue reading :3 (but really you'll be confused. Probably. Idk it's probably pretty easy to understand either way live your best life).
> 
> For those of you who _are_ familiar with this AU, there's been a bit of a time-skip and they're boyfriends now. And for those of you who have seen me yelling about Hinata Wearing Leggings for the past couple months, well, this is the result of THAT. This fic is NOT the next chapter of Deadly - don't worry I'm going to write the shit out of their first time together SOON. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity for Leggings Hinata in the laundromat context. So please enjoy.

Hinata twists the lock on the inside of the door of the laundromat, shuts off the sign out front, turns back to the brightly lit, empty building, and then breathes a deep sigh of relief.

It’s the Thursday before a long holiday weekend, meaning the laundromat was extra packed with customers trying to get their clothes clean for their weekend getaways or family dinners or trips to the amusement park or _whatever_ it is people do who have three days off in a row. He was swamped with fold-service and dry-cleaning pickups, people needing assistance operating the machines, and keeping fresh coffee brewed; and to make matters worse, the coin machine broke during the day-shift and hasn’t been fixed yet, leaving Hinata to scramble through the register every ten minutes to change bills to coins and run to the office safe and back again to restock the cash drawer.

And with his timing as regrettable as it always seems to be, it’s also _his own_ laundry day. Meaning: his clothes have been left to marinate in their own dampness inside a washing machine since he dumped them in at the very beginning of his shift. This also means he’s had the displeasure of scurrying around in a pair of _very_ old leggings that his ass _might_ have outgrown, like, a half of a pizza ago, while literally every other pair of his shorts, jeans, and pajama bottoms take a tumble in the wash. You’d think that working at a laundromat would afford him the opportunity to do laundry, like, every day, right? Well, okay, yeah, it does. But he’s forgetful and so goddamn lazy when it comes to chores, so his hamper fills up until he’s reaching for his very last pair of briefs and his stash of raggedy-ass white t-shirts he keeps at the back of a drawer. 

So with the last of the customers to finally get the fuck out at four-a.m. on the dot, Hinata is free to close up shop and finally toss his soggy-ass lump of clothes into a dryer and then flop his husk of a body onto the tattered couch, and to maybe watch some scary movie on his laptop while he waits for his clothes to dry. If he’s not scared to death on his dark walk home, then what’s the point of going home at all? 

He kills most of the lights, leaving just the back ones on for him to safely move around and tend to his clothes, and does a little wedgie dance on the way to the washing machine, wiggling his hips before snagging the black fabric of his painted-on leggings out of his butt – and yeah he _knows_ he should exercise a little more to get back into his stunning volleyball shape, but he’s still got a dynamite ass and looks _damn_ good naked so who cares if a pair of leggings he got back in college might be a little questionable right now?

He schleps the last pair of waterlogged jeans from the washer to his laundry basket on the floor, drops his box of fabric softener sheets on top, and then kick-pushes the wad of clothes across the linoleum for about five feet before he hurts his toes; so, instead, he bends over and plants his hands on the rim of the basket, pushing it like a bobsled to slide it down the row of washing machines to the dryers. 

But halfway there he pauses. 

His ears prick up. 

Then he stands. 

His eyes cut sideways to the left, then to the right. Then, slowly, he turns in a complete circle, surveying the dim, empty shop. Carefully studying the quiet machines, the shadows lurking in the corners, the coffee pot he forgot to clean, the garbage he forgot to take out. _Shit._

It’s not that he _heard_ something, really. It’s... more of… like... a feeling. Something tingling up the back of his neck and brewing an ominous, wary sensation in his stomach; making his eyes narrow suspiciously and his pulse flutter. There’s nothing out of place, but still the feeling remains.

He licks his lips and turns back to his basket, his shoulder blades shifting with the weighty tension of the quiet. He bends and slowly pushes the basket a few more feet when he realizes he’s felt this before. He halts. 

He _knows_ this feeling.

It’s the feeling... 

of being… 

_WATCHED!_

Hinata yells a war cry and springs around in an about-face, landing with legs cocked and arms in a karate pose.

No one.

No one and nothing at all. It’s even dim enough inside the shop for him to see out the large windows onto the street, and there isn’t anything out there, either. Not even a car parked along the curb.

He laughs sheepishly to himself and relaxes from his combat stance. Maybe the busy night got to him a bit and he’s still a little overstimulated. He knows that a good, mindless movie should help him unwind. He shakes his head and turns and quickly skids the basket the rest of the way across the floor.

At the row of big heavy-duty dryers, he picks the damp items out of the basket one by one and flings them into the metal cavern, humming a tune to resolve the pressing silence and that tingling after-effect of an adrenaline rush as he works. Glad for the absence of an audience, he waggles his butt again before fishing the tight material from what feels like his small intestine, with how far his leggings have crawled all up in there. He tosses the last of the clothes inside the dryer and tops it off with two fresh fabric softener sheets before slamming the circular glass door. He makes a mental note to clean out the coffee pot and take out the trash before he leaves as he makes his selection for the spin cycle, and wonders what else he forgot to do—

_“WAH—”_

The noise that chokes out of him as he’s slammed into the dryer is entirely involuntary, and the laugh that puffs from the lips shoved against the shell of his ear sounds that way, too – sudden and unintentional, as if it’s been suppressed and building for a while – as long, pale fingers wrap his wrists; the solid chest of his attacker pressed to his upper back quivers with quiet laughter. There’s an intake of breath beside his face. And then,

“Nice spin-move, dumbass.”

“Oh you _dick!”_ Hinata shoves his hands against the vibrating metal of the dryer and the strong grip immediately falls away from his wrists as the other man steps back, giving Hinata some room. Hinata wheels to pin his boyfriend with a scolding look.

“How long have you been here, you creep? And, jesus, fix your face!”

Kageyama is watching him with inky black eyes and a smile that reveals his pearly fangs. He presses his lips together and blinks. 

“Sorry,” he says as his eyes shift back to blue, dragging his bottom lip through a set of newly-human-like teeth. 

Hinata scoffs. “You don’t look sorry,” he says, watching the way those blue eyes start to wander down his body. Hinata sticks his hands to his hips and presses his lips into a hard line, doing his best to look stern and not let his own gaze do some wandering; even in plain old jeans and some weird-ass black band t-shirt that one of the laundry patrons left behind ages ago, Kageyama manages to look like a fucking model. There’s a heat crawling up Hinata’s neck that rivals the temperature of the dryer behind him, half-from Kageyama’s natural effect on him – which, by the way, has lessened somewhat since they started seeing each other three months ago, thank god. Tsukishima reasoned it away with some sciencey jargon after asking if they knew what a fucking vole was, which sounded fucking weird but also kind of, like, super romantic at the same time. 

Whatever. He got bored and stopped listening a few seconds in. But Hinata’s face is also getting hot at how, well, _hot_ Kageyama looks tonight. He looks all keyed up about something, his cheeks touched with pink and eyes bright. And the truth is, Kageyama’s creepy demon stalker face is possibly one of the sexiest things Hinata has ever seen in his life. 

And Kageyama knows it. 

Just like he knows that blood is rushing to Hinata’s cheeks without even looking at his face. He can smell it. Track its course through Hinata’s veins with some kind of olfactory GPS or some shit.

And, you know, it’s really fucking hard to have a secret boner when your boyfriend is half vampire, _by the way_. 

“You don’t look like you want me to be sorry,” Kageyama tells Hinata with a smirk, raising his gaze back to Hinata’s face and taking a step closer.

Hinata stands his ground and looks up at eyes still gleaming with something predatory. 

“Well _yeah. _But what happens the time I think I hear someone scuttling around and I ignore it because I think it’s _you_ being a stupid shit again, but it turns out to be some _murderer_ or something!” Hinata says.

Kageyama opens his mouth to respond but he closes it again. His expression deadpan.

“I mean a _different_ murderer!” Hinata huffs. “Some miscreant, or, like, a _hooligan_.”

“Sorry… did I go too far?” Some of the glimmer in Kageyama’s eyes gives way to genuine concern.

But Hinata shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Kageyama’s torso and smiling up at him. Hinata could outrun a hooligan any day of the year. 

“It keeps me on my toes,” he says.

“Okay, but…” Kageyama mumbles, wetting his lips. “Maybe I don’t want you on your toes.”

Hinata doesn’t even have time to ask what that means before that carnivorous look in Kageyama’s eye is back and he’s snatched up from where he stands, hoisted into the air by Kageyama’s hands beneath his ass. Hinata squawks and wraps his legs around Kageyama’s waist and Kageyama silences his yell of shock with a deep, mind-melting kiss. Hinata’s arms wind around Kageyama’s neck tightly, and he moans, tilting his head to deepen the kiss to claim the whole of his boyfriend’s mouth.

And even without flicking his tongue over the reappearing fangs – being _sort_ of careful not to prick himself – Hinata can tell that Kageyama is _hungry._ Wanting. Hinata threads his fingers into Kageyama’s hair at the back of his head and tugs, separating them with a quiet smack and a low growl of protest. They’re both breathing hard and heat is rapidly pooling between Hinata’s legs where he’s pressed against Kageyama, and Hinata knows that the other man feels it. Fuck – Hinata knows he can _smell_ it. And that just turns him on even more.

“Damn,” Hinata breathes with a drunk kind of smile. “What’s up with you?” 

“You really want to know?” Kageyama asks lowly, biting the corner of his own bottom lip with a pointy tooth as desire crowds out the blue of his eyes. Or maybe he’s making them do the black thing again. Hinata isn’t sure. Is there even really a difference? Blood-lust, sex-lust, same thing, right? It’s hot as fuck whatever it is. 

Hinata nods, taking a sharp breath when Kageyama roughly squeezes the handfuls of Hinata’s ass and thighs. 

“I’ve been watching you all night,” Kageyama rumbles, stepping forward to press Hinata against the working dryer. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

Hinata isn’t sure if that passes for an explanation, but he almost doesn’t care with the way Kageyama shifts his hips forward, showing Hinata what he means by _crazy_ and grinding his thick, rigid cock against him. 

“Wha—_ah—_okay, f-first of all, that’s super creepy,” Hinata’s mind fuzzes with pleasure and he’s already _so_ hard, straining beneath the tight fabric of his restrictive leg-wear, “and you see me every night!”

“Not wearing _these_.” Kageyama rolls his hips again and tightens his grip on the underside of Hinata’s thighs. Hinata moans loudly, his head tipping back and eyes closing as Kageyama rubs against him. 

“W-wearing—wha—_wah!_” Hinata clings to Kageyama when the man suddenly spins them both away from the dryer – a second later he’s slammed down onto a laundry table, hard enough for the sound to echo through the building. Hinata reaches to pull Kageyama down onto him, but his boyfriend has already dropped between his legs, pushing his thighs apart and mouthing over the swell of his cock. Hinata mewls and stuffs clutching fingers into black hair as Kageyama drags his lips and tongue over the prominent outline. 

“_Shit,_” Kageyama breathes, running the tip of his nose up the side of Hinata’s length and then raising his almost-completely-onyx eyes. “You look…” Kageyama swallows, seeming to grapple with several word-choice options, “_good_.”

Hinata shivers at the desperate look on Kageyama’s face and the deep voice resounding in his head. He’s panting, head raised to watch Kageyama bite at the inside of his thigh, fangs retracted – with how needy Kageyama looks, Hinata is a little surprised that Kageyama still has it in him to control that. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hinata takes that as a challenge. 

“You mean—these old leggings?”

Kageyama removes his mouth from Hinata and nods. He grips the insides of Hinata’s thighs just above the knee, fingers and gaze possessive.

“Why haven’t you worn these before?”

“You l-like them?” Hinata stammers, dazed and bewildered that he’d look _good_ in something so ill-fitting. 

Kageyama just growls and shifts his hands from Hinata’s knees to his hips, promptly flipping him over like a rag doll and dragging him to the edge of the table to bend over him, shoving his clothed length hard against Hinata’s backside and burying his face into his hair.

“I can’t be the only one who was staring at you all night,” he rumbles, breath warm on Hinata’s nape. “Dammit… your ass… your legs.”

Hinata’s hips squirm and his face burns gloriously from the praise and how the thin fabric of the leggings offer little in the way of barrier; the friction of Kageyama dragging his dick over the cleft in his ass makes Hinata whine and chomp down on this bottom lip, his hands gripping the edges of the table. 

“God, Shouyou… I want to fuck you.”

Hinata’s heart was already pounding but it goes wild at the husky, desperate whisper. The man puts his lips to Hinata’s ear, his voice almost pleading when he asks,

“Can I?”

Christ. As if Hinata would ever say no. He gasps loudly and turns his face towards Kageyama, reaching a hand to grab the back of his head to anchor him to a hard, rough kiss. 

“Yes,” Hinata whimpers breathlessly against Kageyama’s lips, “yes _yes _please—“ he sucks in another breath when Kageyama pulls away, and in the next instant groping fingers are digging into his asscheeks, spreading them apart hard so that Kageyama can drag his hot tongue over the material covering Hinata’s balls and up over his entrance. 

“And no underwear,” Kageyama groans against him. “The fuck is wrong with you. You’re gonna kill me.”

“W-who the hell wears underwear with—_ah!—_” Hinata reaches for an abandoned towel folded at the corner of the table and shoves his face into it, muffling a long, drawn-out moan when Kageyama nips at one of his thighs – the sharp sting of pricking teeth tells Hinata that Kageyama is slowly losing it as he mouths and bites and licks all over Hinata’s leggings. 

The stretchy fabric that cages his hard-on is soaked from both the inside and outside in no time at all, and Hinata starts rocking his hips forward and back, desperate for more teeth and tongue and more friction where the bulge of his leaking cock rubs against the table. 

“Tobio—_hah—_Tobio—please—” he bleats his need into the towel and tries to raise his knee to the table to get more leverage to press himself against Kageyama’s hot mouth, but strong hands hold his legs in place; Hinata gives a small, wordless cry, wiggling his hips. Kageyama doesn’t know his own strength sometimes, and maybe _this_ is one of those times. But an impossibly quick and calculatedly firm smack to Hinata’s ass has him wailing through his teeth and his cock pulsing out enough precum to soak completely through his leggings, slicking the table beneath him. 

Kageyama answers with a bite to the assaulted cheek and a growl that seems to sound from within Hinata’s head, sending a shiver whipping down his spine. But ever the humanitarian, Kageyama then hooks his cool fingers into Hinata’s waistband and slowly peels the damp garment down over his ass.

“Lift your hips,” Kageyama commands, pressing an open-mouth kiss to Hinata’s tailbone. Hinata does as he’s told and his cock springs free, bobbing in the cool air before he ruts down against the table, gasping at the direct contact with the chilly surface. But instead of peeling Hinata’s leggings all the way down, Kageyama snaps the waistband in a tight ring around his thighs, a few inches beneath his ass. 

“Wait—” Hinata pushes himself up onto his elbows, “Kage—_ya!_”

Fingers twine into Hinata’s hair and yank his head back before Kageyama presses his lips to the side of Hinata’s neck. 

“_Parading around in these things all night,”_ Kageyama snarls against Hinata’s skin. _“You _like_ showing off to strangers?_”

“N-not _parading!_ I—_mm!”_ Kageyama tugs on his hair again, his back bowing and scalp burning as Kageyama traces his tongue over Hinata’s racing pulse, dragging his lips up the line of rushing blood beneath his skin before whispering,

“_I could kill you, you know.”_

_Yes_, he knows. He fucking _knows. _Hinata’s hips jerk and he moans, biting down on his bottom lip as he feels himself drip all over the table. He tries to stuff a hand between his legs to relieve the aching pressure but Kageyama is too fast, removing his hand from Hinata’s hip and snatching up his wrist, pinning his arm behind his back. 

“Do it then! Kill me!” Hinata hisses, his body prickling with frustrated arousal. “I bet every guy who came in here wanted to bend me over this table!” 

Kageyama jolts and sucks in a sharp breath near Hinata’s ear, and Hinata bites back a smile, sliding his his eyes to the side and fighting the firm grip in his hair just enough to put his lips to Kageyama’s temple.

_“_But they don’t get to, do they?” he drops his voice low and deep, his heart pounding harder at the way Kageyama starts to pant, rough and ragged and fast. “Just you, Tobio, only you—”

A gnash of teeth precedes a low growl and Hinata yelps when Kageyama slams him forward again and then seizes his hips.

“Oh god, yes yes yes _yes—_” Hinata starts to babble, pressing his burning cheek to the cool table and gripping the sides, bracing himself to be stretched around slick fingers; but instead of prying him open, those digits stay glued to his hips, thumbs tracing over the round mounds of flesh, caring and gentle over the sting of the smack from earlier. And then Kageyama drops to his knees.

Hinata has half of a second to wrap his brain around what’s happening and his eyes fly open wide.

“W-what are—_ah! Ahh!”_ Hinata chokes out a cry at the feeling of the man’s slick, hot tongue circling right around his bare hole. His thumbs spread Hinata open wider, pulling the cheeks apart as he works, licking down his tight sack and even to his thighs where they press together, paying special attention to that area before focusing his attention back on Hinata’s twitching entrance. 

“_Oh—o-oh my—god—Kage—ah—“ _Hinata writhes on the table. It’s a hundred times more sensitive and a _thousand_ times more filthy than being eaten out with the thin black material between them, and Hinata shudders with every warm breath that billows over his wet skin; he finds himself trapped somewhere between wanting to crawl away and wanting to ride Kageyama’s fucking face like there’s no tomorrow. Kageyama has never done this to him before – fuck, _no one_ has – and Hinata isn’t equipped to handle the burn of battling arousal and embarrasment as it rocks every cell in his body. The dim glow of the lighting feels _way_ too bright to be held open and quivering beneath it, but _god_ it feels too incredible to let some self-consciousness get to him, and the way his continuously-dribbling cock slips against the cool table when he moves his hips is driving him mad. But it’s Kageyama’s breathy groans against his slick, sensitive flesh that dissolve the rest of his unease completely. Kageyama is loving every indecent second of this – and who is Hinata to take something so precious from him just because he feels all exposed and on display like a goddamn roast goose—

“_NGH! F-FUCK—” _Hinata slurs out when Kageyama drives his tongue right inside, brown eyes rolling and Hinata’s own tongue panting against his bottom lip while his spine arches, like he’s some kind of puppet on a string. Swirling, rolling laves of that slick muscle spin Hinata’s head clean off his shoulders and he rocks his hips forward and back. 

Shit, did Kageyama _actually_ kill him and he didn’t notice? Is this heaven?

But no – no it can’t be, Hinata decides. Because thrusting back against Kageyama’s mouth is good and all, _great_ in fact, but what Hinata wants to do is spread his legs wide open, to offer more of himself up to Kageyama’s generous lips and to get more and more and _more_ inside of him, but the leggings rucked down to his thighs act as a vise, keeping his legs pinned tightly and so cruelly together.

“‘Y-yama—Tobi—I can’t—my—” Hinata gasps and shimmies his legs, trying to convey his distress amidst the obscenely wet sounds coming from behind. But then a low, pleased purr hums against his hole and Kageyama removes a hand from Hinata’s hip. When Hinata hears a button pull and a zipper being yanked down he whimpers with relief, craning his head back to see Kageyama freeing that huge, solid thing from his jeans. The other man raises his face from Hinata’s ass and looks him right in the eyes as he gives himself a full, slow pump, thumbing at the shiny head and smearing the precum down over the flushed shaft, so full and heavy with blood it looks almost painful. Hinata longs to give his boyfriend the relief he needs, but he’s a million miles gone already, drunk from Kageyama’s mere proximity and high as fuck from having his asshole practically deep-throated. 

Seems like Kageyama is about to give them both what they need, anyway.

“Oh fuck.” Hinata swallows as Kageyama wipes the back of his other hand over his own soaked lips and then stands. Their eyes stay locked when Kageyama leans over him, casting Hinata in shadow, but Hinata breaks from the daunting, hungry stare to push his face back into his security towel when the other man’s weight settles over him and the hot, wet tip of Kageyama’s cock slides up and over his hole. He bites the terrycloth, his lower back beading with sweat of anticipation when Kageyama tugs at his waist, dragging his hips off the table and robbing him of the friction of the smooth surface; Kageyama presses a kiss to the back of Hinata’s neck, then to the side, then to the angle of his jaw. He nudges Hinata’s cheek and Hinata turns his head, joining their lips in a clumsy, messy kiss. 

But Kageyama’s slick, throbbing head shoves lower, down past Hinata’s balls to probe at where his thighs join, where Kageyama licked and sucked and kissed. Hinata feeds Kageyama a soft gasp of question and another of immediate understanding. He jolts back from the kiss to see dark, gleaming eyes.

“No no no _no—” _Hinata groans, tilting his hips in utter vain as Kageyama thrusts forward, sliding his shaft between trembling thighs. Kageyama heaves a moan, resting his forehead between Hinata’s tense shoulder blades and drawing his hips back slowly before pushing forward again, his thick shaft so close to Hinata’s own that he can feel its blazing heat and yet it’s still so far away, fueling Hinata’s desperation to feel that heat inside of him.

“No?” Kageyama huffs against Hinata’s back, driving himself between his legs. He slips a hand beneath Hinata’s shirt to press against his chest, gathering Hinata closer to him as he fucks his thighs. “This isn’t what you wanted?”

Hinata bites his lip and shakes his head – _no_ _obviously not! _He—he needs— 

“I-inside—please—’yama—need you—” Hinata sobs, voice bouncing with every one of Kageyama’s teasing thrusts. 

“Think this—is what _they_ imagined?” Kageyama licks a line up the back of his neck. “All those—fucking _guys_” he punctuates his lilting words with a particularly rough roll of his hips.

“D-definitely not—” Hinata shakes his head again and closes his eyes. He loves this. He _does_. The thought of Kageyama feeling good has, on occasion, been enough to get him off on its own. But right now while he’s _aching_ to be filled, it’s just… it’s not… it’s _not_ _enough_. 

“How then—_hah—_what do you think they—_ngh—ah, _shit, Shouyou—” Kageyama is losing it quickly, his voice wearing thin at the edges and hips jerking unevenly. Oh no. No no no _no — _there is no fucking _way_ Hinata is going to let him come just from fucking his goddamn thighs after he was spread out and eaten at like some kind of ass buffet. 

But he has an idea. It’s stupid. He tenses up his middle and clenches his fists in preparation, anyway.

“Well they—wouldn’t treat me like—some goddamn sex toy—” he hisses, “unlike _you_—“

Kageyama immediately stills his hips, his cock throbbing and leaking down the back of Hinata’s leg.

“W-what?” Kageyama’s voice scrapes out of him, the pitch high from alarm at Hinata’s silly accusation. Hinata almost feels sorry for the guy. 

Almost.

With Kageyama distracted, Hinata puts his hands to the edge of the table and _shoves_, skidding the thing a few inches across the floor but also knocking himself back into Kageyama, hard enough to throw the larger man off balance and giving Hinata a chance to wheel around and clamp his hands to Kageyama’s shoulders, toppling with him as Kageyama falls backwards onto the floor. Kageyama cushions his fall with his hands as he goes down, and Hinata does what he can to keep his knees from driving into Kageyama’s gut with the leggings still pinning his legs together all awkwardly. Kageyama grunts when Hinata’s weight drops onto him, his kneecaps hitting Kageyama in the ribs before gravity pulls him back the other way, his ass coming to land low on Kageyama’s belly and hands dropping to Kageyama’s chest.

For several panting breaths, Kageyama just blinks up at Hinata in shock, then he blinks down at where Hinata’s lower legs flank his upper abdomen. Then he blinks back up to his face.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” Kageyama croaks, his eyes wide with more panic than fear. 

“Are you _actually_ stupid?” Hinata replies, still short of breath. He’s sure he looks ridiculous – legs half-splayed all weird across Kageyama, his cock standing straight out from between his legs, swollen and wet, and his face feels so hot he must look like a cocktail cherry, but he has the upper hand now. “You think those _guys_,” he spits the word like it tastes bad, “these entirely hypothetical, fictional, totally _not real_, horny dudes would do anything besides just bend me over a dryer and pound me senseless?”

Kageyama swallows. “I-I don’t—”

Hinata drops his voice low and brings his face closer to Kageyama. “You think they’d do a single thing in consideration for _me?_ Think they’d know how to kiss me? Where to touch me?” he licks his lips, “and how to make me start begging for it because everything they do to me just feels so _good?_”

Kageyama shakes his head and he grabs Hinata’s hips.

“Nope,” Hinata breathes, taking his hands off Kageyama’s chest and leaning backwards to brace his palms to the man’s thighs, shifting himself until he feels that warm, twitching length up against the cleft in his ass. “So why would I give a shit about what some _guys_ want? All they’d do is just stick it in because they know it would be so tight...“ Hinata grinds himself over Kageyama’s dick, slowly, over and back while he speaks, “ and hot… inside me…” 

Kageyama groans, his eyelids fluttering over black-blown eyes. 

“...and they know that they’d come in like two seconds... ‘cause they _know_ my ass feels _amazing_ just by looking—”

Kageyama’s hips stutter up off the floor and Hinata lifts his chin in a moan, a pearly bead of precum stringing off the end of his cock.

“—but _you_ know because you’ve been deep… _deep_ inside me—” 

“Ride me,” Kageyama chokes, his brow furrowing with his plea. The wanton desperation on his face skips an electric feeling across the small of Hinata’s back and lights a licking flame in his chest. He hums out the building heat in a delighted, anticipatory moan when Kageyama bucks his hips up again, sliding between Hinata’s asscheeks.

“_Ngh—hah—_you mean… like this?” Hinata gives a shaky, teasing smile as he rocks his hips up and then back to feel Kageyama glide against him, over and over, his own cock stiff and twitching where it stands rigid from between his slick thighs.

“Shouyou—please—”

Hinata laughs, breathlessly and triumphantly. “It’s not so nice—getting _teased_—is it? 

“_Please_—get on my dick—” Kageyama ignores Hinata’s stupid bullshit and his fingers dimple into the skin at Hinata’s hips, his fully-extended fangs peeking from behind kiss-red lips. But that just makes Hinata want to tease _more_.

“Oh yeah?” he lilts. “ You want it? Why don’t you—m-make me—_ah!_” Hinata’s taunting bleeds out of him in a cry when Kageyama thrusts up and his hot, wet tip smears over Hinata’s tight hole, catching on it briefly. Kageyama shoves his hips up again and Hinata keens, chomping down on his bottom lip so hard that a coppery tang blooms across the very tip of his tongue—

Kageyama’s eyes flash. Hinata freezes.

_“Oh—“ _is all he can squeak out before Kageyama grabs his throat with one hand and yanks him down to crash their lips together. It’s all teeth and tongues and frantic gasps as Kageyama laps into Hinata’s mouth, tongue curling against the flavor of Hinata’s blood, repaying Hinata for the privilege in deep, greedy moans that Hinata drink in with equal zeal. His cock jumps and leaks warm against Kageyama’s stomach, all over his t-shirt as Hinata ruts against the soft material with shallow little jerks of his hips. 

“Want you—Tobi—I need you—” Hinata pants and whines to Kageyama’s lips, voice gravelled from the fingers around his neck and breathless from desire crowding the air from his lungs. 

Kageyama answers by releasing his hold on Hinata’s throat in favor of snaking an arm around his waist, pinning Hinata against his body and crushing a gasp out of him; his other hand grapples with the restrictive waistband of the leggings, shoving and growling deep, impatient noises against Hinata’s mouth.

“Hurry hurry _hurry—”_ Hinata bleats, his bitten lip throbbing where Kageyama drags his tongue over it, the hot flesh stinging and puffy from the way Kageyama assaults it with hard, rough kisses. 

The leggings crumple down past Hinata’s knees and he kicks them the rest of the way off, eagerly parting his legs wide over Kageyama’s hips the first chance he gets and sobbing his relief. Their lips disconnect in a wet smack when Hinata pushes himself up, and then strong hands latch onto his ass as Kageyama sits up to attack the side of his neck, suckling at the skin over Hinata’s fluttering pulse. Hinata knots his fingers into the short sleeves of Kageyama’s shirt to use as leverage to buck against him, sliding their cocks together.

“Oh _god_—_”_ Hinata sobs when Kageyama gives a rough roll of his hips, then again, and _again_, fingers digging bruises into Hinata’s hips with every tug that grinds them together. “Y-you’re—gonna fuck me now—right?”

Kageyama has gone full feral, with sharp, uncontrolled growls of need puffing hard and warm against Hinata’s throat, eyes black as they’ve ever been and still managing to look dazed when he pulls back to look Hinata in the face; his hips continue to lift and roll, and Hinata wonders if Kageyama is even capable of answering with how far gone he is. He opens his mouth to ask the question again but his lips are caught and his plea swiftly swallowed down by Kageyama.

But Kageyama answers him anyway.

“Yeah.” 

His answer is clipped and dangerously low when he breaks for air, music so glorious to Hinata’s ears that he almost cries out from the single word alone; one of Kageyama’s hands leaves his hip and then Hinata feels two fingertips probing at his mouth. Kageyama watches Hinata gladly grant entry, sliding his digits over a tongue so eager that Hinata gags when he curls it over Kageyama’s knuckles, saliva dribbling down his chin before he closes his lips and sucks while staring into Kageyama’s eyes.

He whines when Kageyama withdraws his fingers.

But then wet, feathery touches trail down the middle of his back, dotting his spine with the smear of slicked-up fingers, and Hinata buries his face into the crook of Kageyama’s neck when that touch dips lower to rub a circle around his hole. Hinata hears Kageyama exhale a shaky breath and then he slides his fingers in slowly.

Hinata arches into the sudden stretch and _wails_, turning his face up and shoving his lips against Kageyama’s jaw. He mewls his gratitude into sweaty skin, hips shuddering as Kageyama opens him up. He struggles with the urge to thrash, to go crazy, to drive himself over those digits and pry himself open wider. Faster. But he lets Kageyama work – lets him spread his entrance open with practiced ease and doting, gentle fingers that edge the tension from his body and coax him entirely pliant. 

“Kage—_oh—” _Hinata’s jaw drops and his eyes roll shut with the feeling of being stretched – being prepared to take Kageyama in deep. The thought pools a molten feeling in Hinata’s stomach and he shivers in Kageyama’s arms. He wants to be filled, full up to the brim until he feels that completeness wash over him and he thinks he’ll die without Kageyama sheathed inside of him, thick and hard and throbbing.

Kageyama turns his head, then, nudging at Hinata’s temple until Hinata gives him his parted lips, small breathy moans still spilling over them when Kageyama rolls his tongue inside; it’s slow and almost tender – so good that Hinata barely whimpers at all when Kageyama takes his fingers out. 

Then he’s being lifted into the air. 

Hinata hits the surface of the table with a small thud and he falls back onto his hands and hooks a leg higher on Kageyama’s waist, pressing his heel to Kageyama’s back until the other man leans over him. Inky-black eyes blink down at him, animal-like and fierce, _starving_, chest moving with panting breath. Hinata expects Kageyama to seize him by the hips and flip him over to mount him like some kind of beast, especially after all that energy spent celebrating Hinata’s ass. But—

“I want you like this,” Kageyama tells him, raising a hand to drag a long, soft touch up beneath Hinata’s shirt, over the bumps of his ribs that expand and contract quickly with his anxious breathing. “I want to… see you.”

The admission makes Hinata gulp and Kageyama reverently smooths his hand down the back of a tremulous thigh. 

“I want to watch your face,” Kageyama continues roughly, taking his own cock in hand and angling himself against Hinata; he keeps his eyes locked to Hinata’s when he slips his smooth head against Hinata’s puckering hole. “I want to see you come.”

Hinata whines and arches into the feeling of the tip pressing at his entrance, his body ready and aching to swallow Kageyama in and be stretched to the breaking point. Hinata takes a big, gasping breath, letting that familiar split-second sensation of conservational fear that Kageyama is _too fucking big_ break over him in a rolling wave before he relaxes his shaking legs as Kageyama pushes forward to finally, _finally_, sink into him.

Hinata’s arms give out and he falls flat to the table, his spine then immediately curving up off the surface and his head tipping back, his jaw dropping in a harsh gasp as Kageyama fills him, slowly, inch by inch; he paints feathery touches up the insides of Hinata’s thighs and over his hips, soothing the burn of the intrusion right out of him with pure, doting affection.

“You look—and feel—so fucking good—” Kageyama’s voice is shaking – Hinata knows he’s holding himself back from ravaging him. He can see it when he peers up at him from lidded, watery eyes, the restraint showing plain on his face – literally in Kageyama’s case. The endless pools of black have receded to show the whites of Kageyama’s eyes and the deep ocean blue of his irises, and his fangs have retracted to nothing more than a moderately-pointed set of canines, a clear display of his self-control showing through. And as sexy as Scary Demon Tobio can be, this version of Kageyama, the gentle, genuine love and care he holds for Hinata, fills Hinata’s chest with something so warm and full that it chokes him up, thicker and hotter than the cock swelling deep inside him. 

“_Hah_—fuck—’yama—” Hinata’s voice is thin, whiny to his own ears, and his sweaty hands slip where they grab at the sides of the table. “S-so—much—inside—” 

Buried to the hilt, now, Kageyama blows out a shaky breath and leans down over Hinata and wraps an arm around his back while leaving his other hand braced to the table, pressing warm, light kisses to Hinata’s damp forehead and up into his hair. 

Kageyama is still wearing all of his clothes, a point Hinata has been meaning to raise, but mentioning it now would likely move Kageyama away from him and _that_ is something Hinata cannot abide. So just in case, Hinata loops his arms around Kageyama’s neck and tightens his legs at his waist.

“You okay?” Kageyama’s breath puffs in quick pants against Hinata’s ear, hitching when Hinata shifts his hips up. “I-is it_—_too much?”

_Yes_, Hinata thinks. Always. Always and fucking forever it’s _too fucking much_, but not in the way Kageyama is asking. So Hinata shakes his head _no_ as his chest wells with warmth, his body adjusting to the twitching length seated inside him as he sucks in breath after ragged breath. He taps his heel against Kageyama’s side and grits his teeth.

“Move—Tobio!”

Kageyama does – giving a tentative roll of his hips that pulls a high, moaning cry out of Hinata as the rigid shaft drags through him, hitting all those buttons that Hinata always forgets are there until Kageyama’s cock activates every single one. Kageyama thrusts forward again and the hot tears threatening to spill down Hinata’s cheeks finally do. His jaw drops and he writhes, spine bowing into an almost-painful curve to let him accommodate Kageyama’s massive size.

Hot, open-mouthed kisses pepper Hinata’s throat and chin and jaw and Kageyama’s hand splays out against the middle of his back, easing the straining arch of it and lessening the stress on Hinata’s body as he slides out of Hinata and then pushes back in. Then again. And again. Gradually driving his hips harder, faster. Fucking the strength right out of Hinata.

Hinata’s sense leaves him in rough little pants that peal from his throat with every thrust, shredding his voice beautifully hoarse when he sobs bits and pieces and slurred letters of Kageyama’s name – whatever he can work from his lungs to bleat his adoration.

“Tobi—_ah_—ya—Ka—_n-ah_—so—_hah_—good—fu—_mm!_— 

His delirious praise is cut short by the bruising force of lips on his own and Kageyama groans into his mouth as he locks his hips forward, letting Hinata feel him throb deep inside as he grinds the base of his dick against his stretched hole, just how Hinata likes it most – the way Kageyama does it to make Hinata go fucking wild. 

And go fucking wild, he does.

Hinata bucks his hips hard to fuck himself on Kageyama’s dick, impaling himself and forcing the air from his lungs with every rolling sway of his body. Kageyama hauls Hinata’s upper body up off the table and Hinata braces a hand to the surface behind him, keeping his other arm around Kageyama’s neck as leverage to raise and lower himself. He babbles and swears, gritting his teeth and sobbing at the fullness that splits him open one second and leaves him violently empty and desperate the next. Their lips stay pressed together, breaths shared with Kageyama’s sharp gasps and pleas of _more_ and _faster _and _fuck yes yes YES _as he lets Hinata ride him. 

Hinata licks at Kageyama’s moans, drawing them in like oxygen as he runs his tongue over pointed teeth, and soon Kageyama just can’t help himself anymore and he starts thrusting up again to meet Hinata’s canting hips. 

Hinata knocks his head back, hanging off of the other man and giving up control completely, letting Kageyama bounce him on his cock, his pleasure-teary eyes half-cracked and watching the ceiling jar and blur. And then there are lips at his throat, sucking hot kisses into his skin as familiar pressure curls low and deep in his belly. Hinata’s head lolls loosely on his neck, inviting more of that hungry mouth, sharp teeth scraping over his racing pulse in a way that_ should_ make him afraid. That _should_ make him think twice about baring his throat to a vampire – no, a tapir – _no, _a fucking… fucking—

“Bite me—please—Tobio—_please_—just bite me—”

Kageyama won’t. He never has, despite a moderate amount of needling over the last couple months. But now sort of seems like a good time to push it, you know? With Kageyama so completely stirred up.

“Shut up—” Kageyama growls. Okay. Maybe not _that_ stirred up that he’d let _all_ of his primal instincts take over. But Hinata can tell he’s barely hanging on. He crushes his hands around Hinata’s waist so tight it feels like he’s trying to feel his own cock sliding through him. Fuck. He probably can. The thought makes him grab at his dick, pumping himself in time with Kageyama’s bruising thrusts.

Which is weird, Hinata decides. It’s weird to think about that – to imagine it as even a possibility. But so is asking his boyfriend to stick his fangs into his neck because, for some crazy reason, he expects it to make him come so fucking hard he might literally keel over and die after. Especially since Kageyama already makes him feel like that. So yeah. It’s weird.

And so is getting fucked on a laundry table at your place of employment just because you are a disgusting cretin who didn’t have anything besides old-ass leggings to wear that night.

Hinata is fucking weird. He’s weird. It’s fine.

And if Kageyama won’t bite him, then the least he can do is—

“Come inside me—”

Kageyama snarls, slamming Hinata back down onto the table and folding over him, embracing him fully so he can pound into him with rough snaps of hips that pry Hinata open so far he thinks he’d fall apart if Kageyama weren’t wrapped around him so tight. He loves it. And he loves him. He turns his head and puts his parted lips right up against Kageyama’s burning cheek and tells him that, over and over and over. Kageyama’s thrusts start to falter, hips stuttering, and he pushes up off Hinata, bracing a hand beside Hinata’s head and curving a hand beneath one of his knees and lifting it to prop it up, opening Hinata up even wider to him as Hinata’s peak starts its slow roll up from his curling toes with the thick head of Kageyama’s cock pumping over all the right spots inside of him; with the way the man’s cheeks burn a deep red; with his black hair damp and hanging in front of his gorgeous blue eyes – yes, they’re still blue and looking right at Hinata from beneath dark lashes. And with the low, wrecked way he says,

“I-I love you, Shouyou—“

Despite the little trembles that have been shivering hints of it over his flushed skin, Hinata’s orgasm hits him hard in a rush of ecstasy that curves him up off the table, spurting everything he has all over his belly and the bottom of his t-shirt and clenching down on Kageyama’s length with every jolt of bliss that zaps through him.

Kageyama groans and drives his hips all the way forward before he spills deep inside of Hinata, his cock beating with every swelling pulse that fills Hinata with more heat than he thinks he can take, making him cry out and shudder and moan with oversensitivity as his climax stretches on to see Kageyama through his own peak; Hinata’s tight ring of muscle milks Kageyama of everything, demanding so much that he feels it dribbling out of him and onto the table as his own spent length twitches against his belly.

His last ounce of strength is used to reach for Kageyama with grabby, trembling hands and to keep his legs wrapped around Kageyama just a second longer before they slip from his hips from exhaustion and hang limply from the table.

Kageyama exhales a slow breath and folds over Hinata, pressing kiss after kiss to Hinata’s forehead, into his sweaty hair, down his burning cheeks and over his stinging, throbbing bottom lip, brushing his tongue over the small welt and humming softly. 

“Dumbass,” he sighs, not really chastising, but not really, _not,_ either, as the final tremors ripple through them. “What if I was hungry?”

Hinata hums a sated, sleepy noise and shivers as gentle palms smooth down his sides. He lazily combs his fingers through Kageyama’s hair, brushing it from the man’s face and smiling. 

“You mean you weren’t?”

"I ate yesterday." Kageyama nips at his chin. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“It doesn’t _hurt,_ stupid, it—_a-ah,_” Hinata shudders and his hands fall to either side of his head when Kageyama slowly pulls out of him. “It’s not like I did it on purpose.” 

Kageyama presses himself up off the table and glares. 

“Stop trying to get me to bite you.”

Hinata huffs. “I’m _not_.”

Kageyama arches a brow and Hinata slides his eyes to the side before chewing on the unblemished portion of his bottom lip. He looks back at Kageyama.

“Okay, but you _are _going to bite me eventually, right?”

Kageyama rolls his eyes. 

“Obviously,” he says.

“Okay but _when?” _

Kageyama blinks, his expression blank. He says,

“Right now.”

Hinata’s breath catches. His eyes go wide. And then Kageyama lunges. Teeth clamp down over the hammering pulse in his neck—

“Wait wait wait _wait wahhh_ _Tobio!—_”

And the warm breath of a laugh billows over his skin. Kageyama raises his head, his half-lidded eyes smug and sparkling. 

“See?” he says. “You don’t really want me to.”

“I-I wasn’t ready!” Hinata cries, sitting up and sputtering as Kageyama steps away, still laughing, and tucks himself back into his jeans. “I just—it wasn’t—that’s not _fair!_”

“What’s not fair about it?” Kageyama asks, bending to retrieve the impetus for the night’s lewd activities. His eyes turn a little glassy as he gazes at the leggings. Then he tosses them into Hinata’s lap.

“I wasn’t, like, _emotionally_ ready, you ass! I want, like, _mood_ and… other stuff.” He grabs the rumpled black garment and curls his lip at the feeling of the damp fabric wound in his fist. “And I’m not wearing these after you slobbered all over them!”

Kageyama rolls his tongue in his cheek and glances around, eyes landing on the dryer still rumbling off to the side. 

“I don’t think you have many other options.”

Hinata chews his lip, frowning at his leggings and trying his best to pretend like there isn’t cum leaking out of him. 

“I guess not.”

Kageyama moves closer, resting his palms on Hinata’s thighs, the skin still sensitive and the muscles still a little jumpy beneath Kageyama’s touch. 

“Well, let me take you to the bathroom and clean you up,” Kageyama murmurs, brushing his lips down over Hinata’s ear. He reaches for the towel that Hinata has been using to stifle his cries and wraps it around Hinata’s waist. “I feel gross, too. Maybe by the time we’re done your clothes will be dry.”

“Maybe,” Hinata hums. He droops against Kageyama’s chest, eyelids heavy. “Was gonna watch a movie while I waited. You wanna? We still have time.”

Kageyama nods and lifts Hinata off the table, letting Hinata sag against him as Kageyama helps him to the bathroom on wobbly legs.

When they’re both clean and fresh and smelling like the floral soap that’s stocked in the restroom, and after they sanitize the shit out of the folding table, Hinata flops onto his side on the old worn couch with Kageyama and the soft towel wrapped around his waist and sets his laptop on the coffee table beside some out-of-date gossip magazines. His clothes aren’t quite finished yet, but that’s fine. They still have at least two hours before the sun rises (not that it matters much to Kageyama, but he’ll talk about that some other time) and about an hour and a half before the morning person comes for her shift.

“What are we watching?” Kageyama asks, wiggling behind Hinata to get comfortable against the back of the couch and propping his head up with his hand, draping his other arm over Hinata’s waist. His fingers trace little patterns low on Hinata’s belly, absently and slow. Second nature. Comfortable.

Hinata stretches an arm towards his laptop and pokes his way through the _horror_ options on Netflix.

“This?” Hinata says with a yawn, dragging his finger over the trackpad and clicking before Kageyama answers. 

“Ugh,” Kageyama hims and haws, dropping his face into Hinata’s hair. “Why is it always something scary.”

Hinata blows out a tired breath. “You’re literally a tapir—” 

“No.”

“—how can you be afraid of a _movie?_” 

Kageyama lifts his head to peer at the screen for all of three seconds before dropping his face into the crook of Hinata’s neck and grumbling.

“You want me to change it?” Hinata sighs, tilting his head when Kageyama nuzzles at him. 

Kageyama hums a _no_ and presses a soft kiss beneath Hinata’s jaw.

Which would have been fine, really, if he had, because Hinata can only watch the movie for like ten minutes with Kageyama’s fingers ghosting so softly over his skin and his breath warm at his throat, before falling into a light, tranquil sleep. Until— 

“_Fuck.”_

“What? What’s wrong?” Kageyama startles when Hinata sits up with a jolt. Hinata blinks around him, dazed, his eyes landing on the movie that seems to be somewhere near the end point. He aims wide eyes towards the front of the laundromat, then at the clock on the wall, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest.

_Mostly_ because he’d dreamt of pale mangled faces and long gross hair and girls crawling out of TVs – he really _shouldn’t_ watch scary movies before he falls asleep.

But mostly, _mostly_, because…

He turns to look at Kageyama. He swallows.

Kageyama’s eyes widen with sudden understanding. He knows. He knows what Hinata is going to say before he says it.

“You… you didn’t,” he says.

Hinata nods.

“I did.”

“Shouyou please…” Kageyama runs a hand down his face. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Hinata shakes his head.

“No,” he squeaks. “I-I'm not. I... I forgot to shut off the security camera.”

**Author's Note:**

> No - Hinata isn't going to be fired. We all know that Hinata can steal the video footage so they're fine. They're just a couple of alarmists with a penchant for theatrics. My friend brought up a really good point: the little gremlin is probably going to stash the recording under his mattress.  
Hm. That's an *idea*.
> 
> Thank you for reading :3 Please let me know if you want any more Hinata Legging Adventures in the comments or come find me on tumblr or twitter @majesticartax. Thanks. I love you.


End file.
